


The Taste

by Tierfal



Category: Death Note
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-30
Updated: 2010-01-30
Packaged: 2017-10-06 20:40:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tierfal/pseuds/Tierfal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It makes perfect sense.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Taste

**Author's Note:**

  * For [happy_mystic](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=happy_mystic).



> The prompt was "sweet," and this is a never-was-a-Kira AU, because... I like them, haha. XD

Light thinks it must be the taste of him.

It must be because there weren't a lot of sweets in the Yagami household after the year Sayu had the cavity that got infected. Initially, Light had begged them off of his friends at school and smuggled them up to his bedroom for feasting while he studied, but after a while, he'd gotten tired of doing other kids' homework assignments in exchange for a couple of candies, and he'd given it up and settled with tossing a sugar-cube in his teacup.

Inevitably, the day had come when he hadn't been able to locate the sugar bowl, and he'd taken his tea straight, and that was that.

But that isn't that now.

Now, every time he braves the ridiculous security to set foot in L's hotel-headquarters, the mingled scents of cake and chocolate and ripe strawberries, their sweetness mixed and inextricable, envelops him immediately and refuses to relent. It's overwhelming, and it makes his head spin.

It makes sense, then, that when L's surprisingly strong hand settles on his shoulder, and the vast gray eyes slide shut as Light curls his fingers in a jet of violent hair and leans forward to seal their mouths together, his heart starts pounding like a piston, and the whole world condenses to this isolated space. It makes perfect sense, because L practically sweats corn syrup, and his lips must be absolutely _coated_, and Light hasn't had direct exposure to that much sucrose in literally years, and that must be why everything inside of him is faint and weak and sugar-spun, anchored only by the stutter of his heartbeat.

It's the taste of L that does it—that makes it hard to breathe long after they've broken apart, long after the others have arrived, long after everything has placidly settled into the regular pattern. The unfamiliar sweet-taste. That's all.

And his teeth are the only thing that's aching.


End file.
